The Music Box of Time
by NoirxAnge
Summary: A Ball held with Harry sulking and Voldemort...preparing something? Well something is definitely happening. I mean Harry's crying! AU, OOC SLASH


The Music Box Of Time

Pairing: HP/LV (Harry Potter/Lord Voldemort)

Warnings: AU, OOC, Fluff!

Disclaimer: -checks the little black notebook- Alas! I do not own Harry Potter. But I'm using them for my own ... pleasure. -cackles madly-

**A/N: A Drabble made when listening to music. One piece only and from the start to the end! No longer! Though admittedly I cheated… I listened to it for quite a few times. Heheh. In my defence, it was the same piece! =~=**

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HP/LV

Fire crackled from the fireplace, lighting and warming the room. Shadows casted over the room and the silence gave it a sleepy, homey atmosphere. The couple were cuddling in their love seat, with Voldemort reading his book while Harry rested his head in his lap. Sleepily, Harry went to put away his glasses on the coffee table at the side and touched a familiar wooden box of much sentimental value. Music sounded from the music box and Harry smiled gently, reminiscing about the time when Voldemort had given it to him.

XxxX

The ball started hours ago and he wasn't here yet! Harry blew his bangs away from his face and pouted in his dark corner of the room. Couples in beautiful gowns and costumes danced among the fascinating lights while he sulked. It wasn't fair! He promised that he would come no matter what.…

Feeling slightly -_no, a lot_- neglected, he got himself from the chair and dragged his feet to the bar, staring morosely at his feet. To think that he had actually believed him, even dressed up in his best and he got. Stood. Up. Grr. Oh Voldie was _definitely_ in for it next time Harry sees him.

Sigh. Didn't their time together mean a single time to him? He wondered sadly, if he even remembered that today was their anniversary.… it seemed to him that a year together didn't matter much. He pushed his drink around -_when did he order it?_- and gulped it down.

He should really just accept the others' propositions to dance with them. Just, you know, avoid a waltz. A waltz was very intimate, usually between lovers, as a proposal or confirmation of marriage. If he accidentally did a waltz with someone undesirable… he just got the shudders really. Since Tom, he spat spitefully in his head -_despite the wrongness_- wouldn't dance with him, he might as well participate, just with other people. He was _not_ a wallflower.

The next person that asked him for a dance, he was bloody well _going_ to dance.

_But Voldemort wouldn't be pleased_, a voice whispered treacherously in his head. _He asked for your first dan-_

**_Well, he bloody stood me up so I can very well dance with whomever I want. _**

Sniff. After all he never did-…

No way was he going to cry! It would make… such a pathetic sight… Harry really tried, he did. Tears still threatened to spill anyway so he hid his face in his arms.

Such a lonely sight.

XxxX

Voldemort sneezed violently in the midst of his journey to the ball. Standing in the rain for hours was not fun. At. All. The old hag, wouldn't even let him bloody in for shelter from the bloody fucking cold rain. He had been in a muggle community so he couldn't even charm himself warm and dry, against the rain. Fuck it. It took hours as well, just to prove to the old banshee that he was sincere in his intentions to give the bloody thing to his love. Bah. He was the feared Dark Lord for fuck's sake. He shouldn't even need to have to wait for a Muggle to give it to him. He could have just snatched it or even Accio it from her.

But noooo. It would make Harry disappointed in him.

His eyes softened at the thought of his beloved._ If only he knew…_

Finally reaching the venue, he entered. The doors creaked, people stared and bowed when they saw him. An entrance fitting of a Dark Lord. He smirked, but inwardly he worried. He couldn't see Harry anywhere.

He could only hope that Harry understood.

XxxX

Hiccuping, Harry looked around dazedly. Why did the music stop? It was sooo nice, it sounded like _BUNNIES_! Fluffy white bunnies in pink punk outfits, playing the flute in Hell…

Snickering drunkenly, he realised many were bowing in the same direction. He couldn't see from behind the crowd so he stood on his stool, wobbling dangerously. Wheeee, he was sooo tall. _Ooh_, he licked his lips, _Voldie looks sooo sexy~ I wonder who's he gonna bang later. I'll kill za bitch. He's __**MINE**__. _

Voldemort was standing at the middle of the ballroom, clearly dressed to impress. He wore a form fitting black dress shirt, skinny jeans that accentuated to the firmness and length of his legs. A scarlet red robe -_the colour of blood_- hid his figure, silver accessories and gloves sparkling in the light. However when Harry saw him shake hands with Fenrir _-a werewolf_- he knew that it wasn't silver.

It was platinum. He smiled secretly, silently elating that Voldemort remembered that he disliked silver due to Remus. He felt like a child playing dress-up next to the intimidating person, wearing his parents' fancy clothing. Knowing Voldemort liked it, he had especially dressed up in an emerald green sleeveless high-collared shirt, strips of stray translucent cloth hanging from his waist as a mockery of a skirt. Black leather shorts covered his nether regions down to his knees, his eyes enhanced by the kohl.

Kept in his thoughts, he didn't see Voldemort walking his way. He didn't see him stop in front of him, smiling. He didn't see him hold out a gift and he most definitely did not see him pull Harry down to kiss him.

_Oh Dear Merlin_. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, caught in the passionate kiss. Shivering in pleasure Harry grabbed Voldemort's robe tightly in an attempt to pull him closer. Open mouthed kisses, tongue came into play, sliding across one another. They didn't see the audience, women fanning themselves or men who fidgeted, trying to hide their arousal.

They only had eyes for each other, just how it always had been.

XxxX

Panting, they separated and Voldemort handed Harry the box with an extravagant air. "Here," he drawled, " is your gift. "

He blinked confusedly. " A gift? What for?"

Rolling his eyes, Voldemort clarified," Our anniversary gift you brat. Were you not whining for one the other day?"

"You remembered? You never do-"

"Just accept the bloody gift," he almost groaned in frustration. Couldn't Harry just take it?

He blushed a delicate rosy red, and handled the box gently. It was intricately designed with carvings of vines and roses around the edges and the sides, with the centre words carved on it. Our Time Together. Is this- it _couldn't_ be. He looked up at Voldemort with teary eyes, boring them into him.

This time, Voldemort was the one whose cheeks were highlighted by pink spots. He made a 'shoo'-ing motion with his hands, obviously hinting Harry to just get on with it and open it.

Open the box he did.

_And the hormonal bugger just had to cry_, Voldemort thought fondly as he embraced Harry. He had expected a reaction like this from Harry. After all, he did sorely miss his parents' pictures of their time spent together. He also did hint quite thickly about the idea of marriage, homey bliss and children.

His head hidden in Voldemort's chest, Harry sniffled just as a naughty thought came to him. He smiled sultrily as he arched against his lover, gently kneading his hands on Voldemort's chest. Peeking through his lashes, Harry asked slyly,"Perhaps I could show you exactly how happy I am from your gift..."

Colour rising in his cheeks, Voldemort could only nod dazedly while Harry dragged him to the outside of the mansion and Apparated them back to their rooms. Maybe he should buy more presents for Harry if it made him this happy...

He watched on in lust as he was given a strip tease by his minx. _Yes_, he thought to himself, _definitely more presents_.

XxxX

Giggling, Harry left the music box and his memories, snuggling up to Voldemort. That night had been comparable to their first time together, maybe even better. Though he had pouted while Lover Boy explained to him why he had been late almost frantically. How cute of him really.

They had come a long way since that night, defeated enemies, made allies and overcame obstacles. But they always made it through together. Even when their relationship had Harry's friends repulsed and avoiding him, even when the public rejected them and made them outcasts, they were together.

Had it all been worth the trouble?

Perhaps not before the gift. They had still been in a fragile state, and were prone to blowing up at one another. In a way, the surety of their relationship had still been in doubt.

But after?

Harry looked up at Voldemort only to meet loving warm eyes. They smiled a smile meant for only the other, and shared a soft kiss.

_Definitely_ worth it.

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**A/N: Okay. So I guess that wasn't a drabble... Leave some reviews!**


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